Wednesday, February 28, 2007

After a few years in the game you start to hear more and more stories of what to do and what not to do.

In case you're having trouble deciding which of the following strategies to adopt (or regret not adopting), I've conveniently ranked each gimmick with a patented, easy-to-understand ranking system (in lieu of the customary "top 10" ranking).

Submitting cookies with their application They better be peanut-free.Rating: 3 dozen batches of shame out of 12.

Submitting their application on scented paperAre you kidding me?!Rating: 2 garage-sale antique perfume bottles with the little puffer balls (atomizers, I think they were called) out of 29.

Showing up 15 minutes late for the interview, while the interviewer waits for them to show up.I actually saw this happen, and I heard the interviewer ask, "Why were you late?" The response? "Oh, I thought my interview was at 11:45." I can't decide whether this applicant was extremely honourable for being honest or extremely stupid for not at least making up a better excuse.Rating: 4 white lies out of 11.

Drawing a cartoon of Mickey Mouse instead of writing an application essay.Even worse: Labeling your cartoon "This is what I think of the admissions process."Rating: 99 spots on the Hollywood Walk of Lame out of 100 (because this is a true story).

Answering the "Why do you want to be a doctor?" interview question with a one-sentence response.These are the kinds of people that a) have limited common sense and b) the interviews are designed to weed out.Rating: 56 times having to listen to "Because I Like Science and Helping People" as the lyrics of a polka song, out of 941.

Not following simple directions regarding the application, resulting in their first and last name ending up in the "First Name" box.Pathetic, though unintentional, I assume. Rating: 65 misread directions out of 143.

Including a spelling error in the first sentence of my application essayUh... oops.... well, it got me an interview...Rating: 10 honest mistakes out of 10.

Writing their admissions essay from the perspective of the applicant's pencil.Not a bad idea. I wish I thought of it.Rating: 49 well-deserved spots in medical school out of 50.

Wearing a The Simpsons tie to their interview. I saw this one done by a guy who interviewed at the same time I did last year. He's not in my class.Rating: 1 desperate, unsuccessful plea for attention out of 64.

Showing up at the admissions office wearing a Tarzan leopard-skin outfit and singing Portuguese love songs to the deanI don't think this one has been attempted yet, so give me credit for the idea if you use it. I guarantee you will stand out.Rating: Negative 16 rock-bottom shameless sells out of 612.

This list came about after a conversation with my school's director of admissions as we were killing time and chatting up a storm during interview weekend (I was helping out). She told me that giving gifts to the admissions office simply doesn't work. First of all, the dean of admissions doesn't dictate who gets in and who doesn't; it's a committee decision, based on the accreditation policy. Secondly, gifts aren't accepted by the department; they're either given away, or in the case of larger gifts, sent back.

My advice? Instead of using a gimmick, try being a great person with a stellar personality. But hopefully you didn't need to hear that if you're indeed applying to medicine.

Vitum Statisticus

Vitum Finus Printicus

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*Finus Printicus

Updated 7/07.If you have been my patient, identifying information about you will never be found on this blog. If you do think a story here is about you, I can assure you that is coincidental. After hearing about HIPAA and signing confidentiality forms of my own, and reinforced after I was quite stunned to read the news reports and medical blogging community response to a medical bloggers who have gotten in big doo-doo after accusations of breaching a patient's right to confidentiality in their blogs, I've decided to reaffirm that while my hospital and med-school experiences allow me to get an idea of what happens in medicine, those experiences do not end up here as they actually happened. In order to protect the identity of the patients I interact with, and to protect the opportunity for me to continue blogging, any patient and situational information published here (for example, complaints, diagnoses, age, occupation, definitely names, possibly outcome and heck, even gender) is fictional and has nothing to do with the patients I see. Most accounts written on this blog are inspired by real medical experiences but have been changed to the point that they are entirely fictional; if a post reminds you of an experience you had with a doctor, that is coincidental. I have programmed Blogger to give me a reminder to never compromise the identification of patients that I've seen whenever I am about to write a new post. You wouldn't want your personal info being posted on someone's blog in a way that a reader could figure out that it was you, and you wouldn't want to be entirely open with a physician if you knew s/he was just dying to run to his computer and tell the world about your secrets. You are welcome to read this blog as if the events depicted actually happened, since that's probably more exciting, but the patient encounters you read here never did happen.This blog is not meant to be a substitute for consultation with a qualified medical professional. E-mail addresses I'm provided with through e-mails or comments are never distributed, sold, spammed, or abused by me. Contents are indeed copyright: this means they're the author's property, and you need prior express written consent from the author to do any of these: distributing, broadcasting, copying, copying and pasting, transmitting, altering, selling, presenting, and the like. Especially the like.